Near, near, the teacher's high heels beat my heart like a war drum. This is an exam, and the scene is very scary, like coming to the cemetery and waiting for the paper in black and white.
The bell of the exam pierced my ear like a sharp knife. After it rang, I couldn't hear any sound, only my hands kept shaking.
Once that smiling face became stiff one by one. The quiet wind blew my paper from the gap in the window, and my eyes were attracted by the paper. The brain trapped in the skull has gone too far and seems to explode. Look around people, they are struggling on the tip of the pen, their faces seem invisible, revealing two fiery eyes, which is the battlefield of struggle.
I never wanted to fight, but I put my hand on the paper and stopped. The font is strange, I can't read it, really. But under a sense of collective oppression, the gears of the brain are driven by chains, faster and faster. I'm afraid the bell will ring. I am very satisfied with the test paper. This is the battlefield. Only by working hard can we improve ourselves. . It's worth it It is worth my sweat. Like a spilled fish, I am out of everything. I don't care, only struggle.
My hands are getting wetter and wetter, and the sweat wrapped between my eyebrows has not fallen, and my eyes are fixed on it. In an instant, the teacher looked at his watch and his mouth wriggled, as if he could not speak ... Looking at the classmates around him, they all looked dignified, surrounded by the sound of a pen tip and paper kissing or fighting. Listen, I think this is a March, a difficult March. I must be a note in this March, a happy note. So I calmed down and began to think and answer questions. ...
After all, the exam is over, we handed in the test paper and got the right answer.
Some people, in order to have a safe weekend, even tore the answer to pieces; The most confident one was pulled aside by his classmates and couldn't wait to pick out a wrong nine pairs; More people, standing in the corridor, said nothing ... this is the situation after the struggle on the battlefield. But as everyone knows, the examination room is a place worth fighting for.
After the exam, the atmosphere was relaxed, and the struggle remained on the test paper and in the memory.
The examination room, like a blank sheet of paper, is left with hard handwriting; The examination room is like a steep mountain peak, leaving the footprints of our struggle; The examination room is like the ocean, leaving unparalleled waves; The examination room has become an ocean of flowers, so let the flowers accompany us-struggle!